Chapter 59 The Youngest Mother, Yun Gaeul (3)
Chapter 59 The Youngest Mother, Yun Gaeul (3)
Carrying Second Mother in a princess hold, her body limp, I stepped out of the shower room.
Though I hadn't turned on the lights, the room was now bright.
The night of incest had passed, and day had come.
A day where everything had changed.
How would my life unfold from here?
After committing such acts, I couldn't simply go back to pretending to be the obedient son I once was.
And then there was this inexplicable power I'd gained—likely a side effect of the human experiments. The violent urges and desire for dominance that surged whenever I tried to wield it.
If I couldn't control this, I might do it again. Next time, it might not be my family but unrelated women who suffered.
Ten times...? No, twenty?
I counted how many times I'd climaxed tonight.
Only after that many releases did exhaustion finally set in, allowing rationality to return instead of lust. Controlling this power would be nearly impossible going forward.
"Nngh... uhh..."
Second Mother squirmed in my arms as if cold, instinctively burying her face against my chest.
I looked down at her face—eyes closed, unconscious—no longer seeing her as my mother or a fanatic, just a woman. A faint smile tugged at my lips.
I set her down gently, fetched a towel, and carefully dried the water from her body.
Then, like tending to an ailing mother, I dressed her.
Even though I was the one who had reduced the frail Second Mother to this state, my hands moved with utmost care.
By the time I finished dressing her, she stirred awake, her gaze unfocused as she looked up at me.
Our eyes met—and she flinched, quickly looking away. So did I.
With the flames of incestuous desire extinguished, we were mother and son again.
But we couldn't just pretend it had been a momentary lapse, some childish mistake to forget.
This wasn't just a light kiss or some casual touching.
Her son had taken her virginity from behind, rough and ravenous. And she, his mother, had serviced his ass in a lewd, degrading way.
After that, it was only natural we couldn't even look each other in the eye.
"Um... s-son..."
"...Yes, Mother."
"N-never mind."
The awkwardness between us, where we'd once shared warm conversations, hurt more than anything.
But I couldn't ask her to just go back to how things were. That would mean reviving the shattered image of the Heavenly Child she had worshipped—the very lie I'd destroyed by violating her.
For a fleeting moment, I imagined playing the false god like my father had before his followers. If I could make her forget I was her son, she'd be the perfect woman for me—one I could claim entirely.
But I ignored that rising possessiveness, pretending not to notice it.
Despite the tension, we reached the changing room door.
I went first, cautiously cracking it open and peeking through the gap.
Third Mother sat with her back to us, engrossed in paperwork at the lavishly set dining table. Across from her, Youngest Mother stared blankly into space.
Neither noticed the door opening.
I pushed it wider—silently—and leaned in further, whispering to Second Mother.
"You go first. Head straight into the women's changing room and act like you've been lying there the whole time. Pretend you were never with me."
"...Huh? What?"
"Just—act like you never came here. Like we were never together."
"Wait, that's... that's a lie."
Even now, her fanatical honesty refused deceit.
I shot her an impatient glare—something I'd never dared before, but it came naturally now.
"Just go before they notice."
Maybe it was the urgency, or maybe the sadistic urge to dominate her had grown stronger than my respect. My words came out harsher than intended.
"O-okay. But... we were together, right?"
Even cowed, she needed that confirmation.
"It's just an excuse. Not the truth."
"Alright, then."
Her face brightened slightly, a faint smile forming. Then, with exaggerated movements utterly unlike her usual frail grace, she slipped out.
Her stiff, robotic steps and the overacted tension of a bad spy movie almost made me laugh.
But the moment she disappeared into the women's changing room, leaving me alone, my expression hardened.
Was this right?
I was glad she no longer saw me as the Heavenly Child. But now she saw me as a man instead...
The die had been cast.
The depraved die of incest.
And there was no time to hesitate.
I pushed the door open and strode out confidently, deliberately making noise.
Youngest Mother, who had been listlessly staring at the lavish spread, immediately looked up.
Third Mother, now handling the duties of First and Fourth Mothers—both suddenly detained by Ryu Ga-hyeon—set down her documents and glared at me.
"Why so late?"
"My apologies."
Third Mother had always disliked me the most among my mothers, so I led with an apology.
Well, Fourth Mother tormented me but at least paid attention. First Mother wasn't so much hateful as indifferent. So really, Third Mother was the only one who outright hated me.
"Are you paying the funeral home fees? How much water did you waste?"
"...My apologies."
I was about to sit when her sharper-than-usual tone made me bow deeper.
She handled the cult's donations—money was no issue. Yet she complained about water charges, which would be trivial.
It wasn't about being frugal. She just hated me and seized any excuse to berate me.
"You should've eaten first before showering. Wasting all the effort your aunt put into this meal—no manners."
"...My apologies."
"Enough. Empty apologies mean nothing. Sit down. No—go fetch your aunt first."
"I-I'll go!"
Youngest Mother, who had been anxiously watching Third Mother scold me, suddenly raised her hand like a student and cut in.
She was trying to defend me.
But Third Mother, cold and unyielding, wasn't swayed even by her cuteness.
"No. The one already standing should go. ...What are you waiting for? Go get her. If you're going to run off at night without helping prepare dinner, the least you can do is this."
She glared at me, her disdain for her own son palpable.
...Wait, how did she know I'd gone out? First and Fourth Mothers wouldn't have told her.
I nodded, then gave Youngest Mother a reassuring glance before turning to fetch Second Mother.
Pretending not to know where she was, I wandered the funeral home before finally entering the women's changing room.
There, Second Mother lay collapsed just inside the door.
"M-Mother, are you okay?!"
I knelt quickly, gripping her shoulders and shaking her gently.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she nodded.
"Mhm... I'm fine. Just... my legs gave out, so I was resting... Did something happen?"
"No, nothing. Third Mother said to come eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You should still try to eat something."
"I... don't think I can sit still right now."
"...Ah."
Even clothed, I could picture her ass—red and swollen from my palms and cock.
My face burned.
"You're... blushing again, son. And it's not even warm here now... Do you still want to?"
Her voice dripped with maternal affection as she reached up to stroke my face.
"So handsome, my son. Who could believe you're still a child? So very handsome."
To an outsider hearing only her voice, she'd sound like a doting mother praising her son too much. But I saw her eyes—and knew better.
And when she asked, Do you still want to?—it wasn't concern for me. A man's intuition told me she still craved more.
I carefully slid my hands under her head, cradling it.
She lifted herself slightly to help, murmuring:
"Just... a little longer..."
Her breath warmed my armpit.
"Sister, are you in there?"
Third Mother's voice echoed toward us.